


Recovery

by emilou22



Category: Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz
Genre: Angst with feels, Gen, Post Nighshade, sofia’s not having a good time y’all, spoilers ahead(?)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:40:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25425532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emilou22/pseuds/emilou22
Summary: Sofia’s not enjoying her time at New Delhi Station. It doesn’t get any better when Mrs Jones visits her.
Kudos: 9





	Recovery

It was quiet. Odd for it to be quiet during visiting hours, but the ward was quiet nonetheless. It could have been that a few of the patients had been allowed to sit outside in the gardens, take in the spring air, as they had been graced by good weather. On one of the benches sat a young girl. She wasn’t the youngest patient there, but she was close. Her black hair had grown out. It used to sit on her shoulders, but now it was lower down the back. Dark eyes scanned the gardens, looking at the other patients with their visitors. At least someone was happy.

“Sofia?” It was one of the nurses that called out to her. Sofia didn’t turn round. She barely answered to that name. They said it was hers but it still felt foreign to her. She had earned the right to have her number, why were they trying to strip that away from her? “We have Tulip here to visit you again,” the nurse continued. Sofia looked over her shoulder to meet eyes with Mrs Jones. The woman who had been visiting for the past three months. She came often, every week at least, sometimes as much as four times a week. The doctors said she was her mother. She wasn’t, of course, Sofia knew better than that to believe them. Her memory was still foggy on what happened before Nightshade, but she was certain that this was not her mother. She had no recollection of someone like her in her life. Mrs Jones walked across the lawn to join her by the bench, a small, almost sad, smile on her face.   
“Hello Sofia.”  
Sofia said nothing. She didn’t rise to stand up, remaining rooted to the bench. Instead, she just watched her, eyeing her with suspicion. Mrs Jones stood now by the bench. “How are you doing today?” She asked.  
“Fine,” Sofia replied flatly, before looking back out onto the garden. Mrs Jones moved to sit by her, half watching her, half watching the world with her.   
“I’ve been talking to your doctors… they say there’s been no improvement….”  
“What’s it to you?” Sofia snapped, her attention now fully on the other woman, brows furrowed.   
Mrs Jones let out a light sigh. “I care about you. I lost you all those years ago, and I just… I just want my little girl back. I want you back.” Her voice wavered at the end. Like the words were hard to say. But Sofia couldn’t believe them. They weren’t true.   
“I’m not yours.”   
“Sofia-”  
“But I’m not!” Sofia pushed off the bench, backing away, her voice rising as her anger became more apparent. “Stop saying that I am! I’m not!” She was almost shouting by now. Screaming at her. Screaming her truth. What she believed. Mrs Jones approached her, arms open.  
“I know. I know you think that.”  
“Don’t you come any closer.”  
Mrs Jones stopped in her tracks. Defeat settled in her eyes. Another soft sigh. She reached into her handbag and pulled out what looked like a leather bound book. “Can I at least give you something?” She held the book out. “That’s for you. For you to keep. I hope it helps.” Reluctantly, Sofia took the book. It was thick and had some weight to it. She undid the clasp and let it fall open. The leaves showed photos. Photos of strangers. Some were of Mrs Jones when she was younger. There also some of a man. And, more surprisingly, two young children, one boy, one girl. Sofia started at the photos for a moment, slowly turning the pages to see more. Holidays, birthdays, family outings. In every one, all the faces were smiling. The little girl stuck out. Jet black hair cut into a cute bob, a small round nose just like hers. Maybe that girl was her? She shook that feeling off and closed the album, snapping the clasp shut.  
“I’ll see you soon, Sofia.”  
“Whatever…”  
Mrs Jones walked by her and gave her shoulder a light squeeze. “I love you.” Then, she left. Sofia didn’t turn to watch her go.

Sofia sat there in silence, eyes now locked on the photo album. The book trembled slightly from the tremor of her hands. Slowly, she sat down on the bench, the album cradled in her arms. It’s not your life. She opened the book again, looking at the first page. This isn’t you. They were photos of a baby. A little girl. A date had been scrawled below the photo. They were taken fifteen years ago. You’re not her. She continued to flick through. The little girl was now joined with a boy at what looked like a birthday party. He looked a bit older. Maybe a year or so. Same thick black hair on his head. He had a broad, cheesy grin on his face, smiling wildly at the camera. He had an arm wrapped round the young girl. Siblings? Maybe. Sofia ran a finger over the photo, tracing the faces lightly, her fingertip resting just below the figure of the boy. He looked familiar. More familiar than any of the other faces in the album. Will. Her heart dropped. A sick feeling ran over her. She stared at the face of the boy. Will. It’s Will. The connection of who he was was… foggy at best. But his name. It was so clear to her. William, or Will as he was known as. Sofia hadn’t noticed a tear slip down her face until it landed on the page, distorting the image. She quickly brushed it away to keep the face of Will as pristine as possible. Sofia looked around, spotting one of the nurses a way off. Getting up, she quickly flagged the nurse down, running over to meet her.  
“Are you alright, Sofia?” She asked, gently resting a hand on Sofia’s arm in an effort to be comforting.  
“Has Tulip left yet?”  
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen her. But I don’t think she has signed out yet...”  
“Do you know where she might be if she hasn’t?”   
“She might be talking to your doctor-” at that Sofia began to run back up to the main hospital, not listening to the nurse calling after her. 

Fortunately, her main doctor had her office based on the ground floor. Sofia sprinted down the corridor, narrowly missing a collision with one of the other patients and his visitors. She muttered an apology only for her arm to be grabbed. She turned to push them off but saw Freddy. She relaxed a little. He was giving her a curious look, as his eyes flicked from the album to her face again. “Hey, where you running off to in a hurry?”  
“I’ll explain later, but I really need to find Tulip.” Sofia broke free. “Nice to see you Sir Christopher and you, Lady Grey,” she called out as she rounded a corner. Standing there with her doctor, just about to leave, was Mrs Jones.  
“Sofia? Are you alright? What’s-”  
“Where’s Will?” There was no response. Mrs Jones stared at her, eyes wide in shock. Sofia flipped the book open to one of the photos of the young boy and pointed at him. “Will. Where is he?” She demanded again.  
“You… you remember Will?” Mrs Jones’ voice caught in her throat.   
“He’s… look I don’t know who he is but I know… I know he’s important to me… I just…” Sofia hadn’t thought this far ahead. Her words tumbled out as she tried to form a coherent sentence of what she meant. “I want to see him. Where is he?”  
“Will… Will’s not here…”   
“I know he’s not-”   
“No.” Mrs Jones sighed softly, placing her hands gently on Sofia’s shoulders. “Will is… We think Will might still be with the organisation that took you.”  
Sofia swallowed the information but it didn’t sit right with her. A small frown formed on her face. Will, to her, was a little boy. He was maybe eight or nine in her mind’s eye. So young, so innocent, so… happy. She scrunched her face up, eyes tight shut to stop the stinging of tears. “I… I want Will…” her voice didn’t have its usual bravado. It wavered, cracked, sounded so pitiful and, for once, scared. She didn’t sound like the bold fourteen year old the hospital staff had got used to. Now she sounded a lot younger, like a toddler who’d lost sight of their parents. Mrs Jones pulled Sofia close to her in an embrace. Sofia didn’t fight it. She curled in close. “I want Will,” she repeated, almost sobbing now. “I… I want my brother…”   
“Let’s go in here, and we can talk about this all okay?” Mrs Jones tried to usher Sofia into the doctor’s office, gently guiding her in. Through bleary eyes, Sofia stumbled over to one of the chairs, curling up tightly, the photo album pressing hard into her chest. She couldn’t control her sobs now. Her breathing was light, erratic, struggling to get enough air. Mrs Jones knelt in front of her, one hand cupping her face. “Can you listen to me?” She asked softly. Sofia nodded her head slightly, gulping again for air. “Okay. I want you to take deep breaths for me.” Sofia nodded again and tried, closing her eyes to focus on her breaths. In. Out. In. Out. Slower and slower. It slowly came back to normal, still light but she wasn’t hyperventilating. She met eyes with Mrs Jones, face red.  
“Where’s my brother?” Her voice wavered less now. Her determination had returned.  
“We don’t know…”  
“I want to find him.”  
“We all do but-”  
“I will find him.”


End file.
